The Digital Dimensions
by PetiteElefant
Summary: **DISCONTINUED DUE TO SERIOUS LACK OF CREATIVITY AND AMATEUR WRITING STYLE PLEASE READ 'THE GATEWAY' AS A COUNTERPART**
1. Chapter 1

The Digital Dimensions

Written by: PetiteElefant

A Cyberchase Fanfiction

Author's Note: Hello is my first FF I'm so excited. I must warn you that this first chapter is a bit dull because it's just an introduction to my main character. Credit to Daisyfan5534, a fellow cyberfan, for inspiring me to write this! I hope you guys enjoy my story! This is my first time writing. (So please excuse my typographical errors.) Okay, well maybe not my first time. But you know. My first writing seen by others. You get it. Oh-tay, lets go-go-go!

Chapter I

October 31, 2012 10:02A.M. CHS R: 109 Accelerated Geometry/Adv. Algebra 2nd period

"Must…pay…attention,"

She said this to herself for the umpteenth time that morning, attempting to figuratively pin her eyes open. She put a dark, slender hand on her forehead. If were possible to die of excessive boredom, Chelsea would be six feet under. Mr. Jones, known to her as the "Drippy Gorg", spnarlfed, (which is the only way to describe the way it spoke)

"Here's today's notes along with the homework for tonight."

He slapped a thick packet of freshly printed worksheets on her desk and 'glorped' towards his other victims. She sighed at the pile of papers in front of her and closed her eyes. That day was Halloween, her least favorite day of the year. The whole idea of the holiday was senseless. Algebra was the **last **thing she felt like doing. She peered down at the first line at the top of the page. _An nth root of x __where n is the index of the radical._ She wrinkled up her face and narrowed her sharp, ebony eyes at the wall-to-wall white board at the front of the classroom.

Then quite randomly, Kristina, a girl in her class, innocently queried to the Gorg, "Are you married or anything?"

"Yea I've got a wife and kids and everything," he 'plorgiffed'.

"Really?" she gasped with eyes almost as wide as Chelsea's. "Yea, I've wondering all year so-"

_The abomination's got offspring? A nauseating thought. _Barely fazed by the interruption he continued with the notes. She just copied everything he wrote on the digital Smartboard onto her paper, not implying to do any of the work herself.

"Rewrite nineteen to the fifth root raised to the third in exponential notation…Rewrite negative forty-seven raised to the fifth-third power in radical notation...Evaluate sixty-four to the cubed root, squared…Write if an integer warlf floober noggin miffer cooblin skoofloppenobber-."

His voice eventually trailed off in her mind as she pondered what she could be doing—sleeping in her bed, drawing cartoons, reading fanfiction….She suddenly snapped to reality when she realized Mr. Jones was showing each student his or her grade from yesterday's test. Chelsea's panicked heart thumped, unsure of whether she passed or not. She had just finished at the end of class yesterday and spent the remainder of it worried sick about what she might have gotten. The awaited moment arrived when he finally 'glorped' over to her.

"Please pass, please pass, please pass," she begged.

The Gorg leaned close to her (which was not a very pleasant experience) and flashed the edge of her paper.

She swiftly sank down into her chair and exhaled, "Eighty-two."

She straightened herself and shrugged. _It could have been better._ Why did math become what she so much despised? Was it ? Mental analysis says that's a ninety-five percent possibility. But could it be something else? Chelsea reflected on last year as a freshman. All honors and AP student. She skipped to first period Honors Algebra every day. Always the first one the finish notes, classwork, homework, and help the other students. Cute and calculated she called herself. This year, though, she let herself slip into the mathematical doldrums. No doubt she was still a sharp kid, but something was missing. As she wondered these things to herself, the bell rang and jolted her awake and she plodded to her third period.

**Yay! Chapter 1 complete. Uh huh, oh yeah. *cabbage patch* Oops, I almost forgot, I recommend reading Daisyfan5534's sagas The Hidden and The Platonic Protection (awesome) and UniqaChica's The Power of Cyberspace(FANtastic). By the way I welcome feedback (just don't be a hater) Thanks guys! 11.1.12**


	2. Chapter 2

Super Vague Summary of the Last Chapter: It was Halloween, Chelsea's least favorite day. It's first period Geo/Alg. She really didn't feel like doing any work that morning. She got an 82 on a math test. She misses the days of freshman year when she loved math. The bell rings. Will she do her homework? Will she be late for class? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Chapter II

October 31, 2012 11:22A.M. CHS R: 201 Computer Applications 3rd period

Save. Access is saving Database #4. Close. Control+Alt+Delete. Log out. Logging out of CHELSEA94567.

Her typing was terrible that day, she couldn't seem to focus. Even after completing an assignment in Microsoft Access for Computer Apps, Chelsea was still in her daze. She began to ponder the events of the class before, Honors Geometry. How did she come to be so good at math anyway? She knew the answer, but it was embarrassing to think about it – Cyberchase.

Just the word bursted open floodgates of cherished childhood memories. The television show of her youth. She didn't just watch it, she was a part of it. Adventures unrecorded she had called them. Days of exhilarating fun and excitement.

Years ago she had fallen upon an alternate dimension, quite literally, and had been determined to protect it from prying, exterpative hands.(**Another chapter **J) She felt her heart drop as memories of depression and loneliness also returned, days of wishing she had real friends and a real life in the real world. Now she had real friends and a real life, and perfectly content with it too.

Yet, guilt and remorse poured back into her soul as she remembered telling them she wasn't coming back. "She's said that so many times," he'd said. "She'll always come back." He was wrong. Despair swelled in her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself from thinking about it. She missed it. She couldn't go back. She can't go back.

**I apologize. I know that it's an extremely small chapter. The lack of dialogue makes it a lot less lengthy. I realize this, but I promise you that the preceding one will be more interesting (; I promise I'll put it in right after this one. 11.1.12**


	3. Chapter 3

Super Vague Summary of the Last Chapter: It was still Halloween. She was in 2nd period Computer Applications. She was still thinking about math class. She couldn't even concentrate on her Microsoft Access assignment. She thought of Cyberspace and her adventures there. She wants to go back. She can't go back. Why does she want to go back? Why can't she go back? Will she go back? Did she do her computer work right? Will the questions ever end? Find out in this next chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Chapter III

November 1, 2012 9:12A.M. CHS R: 207 World History 1st period

Chelsea was the second one to finish her World History quiz on Ancient American and African civilizations. It was painfully simple for it was open-book. She ran out of ideas to occupy herself so she asked her teacher, Mr. Hernandez if she could go to her locker to get her laptop.

Upon returning, she sat in the back of the classroom, flipped open the lid of her computer, and turned it on. It was an orchid purple mini Acer Aspire One laptop; she loved it and wasted many an hour on the internet. She decided to check her email.

( . Sign in. Yahoo ID: thespacekitty . Password: mattjackieinez.)

She really needed to change her password. It had been the same since she was ten years old. Every time she wanted to check her email, she didn't need to be reminded of…them.

( Check mail. Inbox: 201 new messages.)

She rolled her eyes. _Stupid spam mail._

(Get your free personality check. Reduce your mortgage by half! New Viagra)—_Ugh. Revolting.—(_Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete x 194. Warehouse Shoe Sale! Delete. Turn in Your Gold for Cash! Delete. **URGENT MESSAGE FOR CHELSEA**. Delete.)

She sighed, "Well that was an utter waste of time."

She began to close out when she came to a halt. Why did that last one have her name on it? _Couldn't hurt to check it out._ She moused over to the trash icon and clicked on it. There it was at the top: **URGENT MESSAGE FOR CHELSEA**.

"It better not be a virus," she grumbled to herself.

(Double click.)

The email was opened and empty save a video attachment labeled: WATCH. _They think I'm some sort of idiot._ Her chest tightened, wary of the possibility that the video enclosed might be pornography. Chelsea's conscience pinged, telling her not to download it. But morbid curiosity overruled that warning.

(Double click—Scanning for Viruses—Norton Security Scan…No harmful materials.)

"Phhew."

(Downloading 3%...10%...33%...45%...52%...67%...76%...85%...97%...100% Done!)

She turned down the volume on her computer to down to four percent, just in case it was something dodgy. _Here goes nothing._

(Play.)

**CLIFFHANGER! *Hanging on a cliffffff! And that's why he's called cliff hanger!* (Sorry I had to add that. Another severely missed bit on an old PBS show.) But anyways, yea I'm kind of sensing a terrible pattern here. I write very short chapters. *Blech* But that usually means that I crank out at least one in a school day. So, yep. Sorry for the confusing font changes. I was trying to invent a way that you could tell the difference between what was on the computer screen and what she was actually doing/thinking. Anyways, see you in the next chapter. What's the video going to be?**

**P.S- By the way, that is the actual laptop I'm using, no that's not my email (: 11.1.12**


	4. Chapter 4

Super Vague Summary of the Last Chapter: It was the day after Halloween. She was in her 1st period World History class. She was the second one to finish her quiz. She used her laptop to check her email. She had loads of spam mail. One of the messages was not spam mail. The email was empty except for a video. Who sent the email? Is it spam? What's in the video? Is it pornography? Did she pass her quiz? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Written November 2, 2012

Chapter IV

November 1, 2012 9:20A.M. CHS R: 207 World History 1st period

_Here goes nothing._

(Play.)

"Greetings old Cybermate-"

Chelsea instantaneously slammed shut the lid and shrieked a high-pitched squeal. "Eeek!"

A sea of puzzled expressions filled her view as everyone turned around and stared at her. She cringed as she beamed a nervous smile at her class and waved cheekily. Uninterested, the class returned to their quizzes. She quickly reopened the lid and breathed softly, "Motherboard," barely audible.

She hoped that shutting the lid didn't put the computer into sleep mode, which may have closed the video. On the desktop's reappearance, was the window containing the video, much to her relief. And there was the familiar older woman's face surrounded by the surging violet vortex in the background. She went back to her desk and got her earphones from her purse. She went again to the back of the class, plugged them into the laptop, and turned herself so the screen would only be visible to her.

Turning up the volume a tad bit more so she could hear, tears began to form in her eyes as she granted herself the ability to reminisce. She relaxed the muscles in her face allowed one warm tear escape and wiped it away before it fell onto the keyboard. Chelsea took a deep breath, inserted the buds in her ears, and resumed the video.

"Greetings old Cybermate. There is yet again turmoil in Cyberspace. But before I explain, I will recount the happenings of the past couple of days."

She noticed there was no breakage or static in her voice as she spoke, which used to happen due to her virus that Hacker gave her. _Odd. _

"Since you were last here, Hacker's attacks have been few and far between. So scarce they were ,in fact, as of two days ago, it had been an entire year since he wreaked havoc on any Cybersite."

Suddenly, a newsreel tickered across the screen of people dancing, singing, and partying.

"There was a grand celebration throughout all of Cyberspace. Parties were held, gates and doors left opened, a seemingly beginning of a new period of peace. Yesterday, however, quite a peculiar pattern erupted. Hundreds of scrap vendors from all over began receiving strange calls requesting car, computer, and building parts and tools."

A cheesy recording of a shrilly,girly voice ordering 137 lots of hydraulic energy converters began to play.

As she was listening in comical disbelief, Chelsea muttered sarcastically, "Yes, because normal little cyborg-ettes order complicated sub-car parts over the phone. Hacker's an _imbecile_."

Imbecile was one of her favourite words. It didn't just mean dumb, it meant someone whose brain operated **severely** below par. Which is a perfect description in regards to Hacker's mental faculties.(It's also French (; )

"It was assumed the no doubt Hacker was unraveling some nefarious plot. I had sent Digit to the Northern Frontier to spy on him—"

A fuzzy taperecording of the Northern Frontier flickered on (As it was dropped several times, Digit was most likely holding the camera himself) as he sped up the runway to find the area had been absolutely empty, there was just enough sound in the clip to hear Digit gasp, "What...the...hyper-link—" to be followed by TV snow.

Motherboard continued,"The Grim Wreaker, the power grid, everything had been extensively evacuated from the Northern Frontier. Up to today, no one has any knowledge of where he is or where he could be. Of all of the mystery calls to the various warehouse, none have any recollection of a specific location."

_"_How is that even possible?"

As if answering her inner query,"It is not certain how the parts were delivered without an address. But it is assured that he must be hiding."

A photograph of a newspaper headline appeared titled _**HACKER'S GONE MISSING! : The Search is on!**_

"Hacker needs to be found, and discover what he is doing with the hundreds of parts he's suddenly ordered, then stop him."

Chelsea groaned,"And you need** ME** to do it."

"We need **YOU** to do it. Hacker has been quiet for a very long time, whatever he is building could be more dangerous than ever. I know it has been years since you have done any of this. Nonetheless, Cyberspace needs you. You are our only hope."

The screen went black.

The bell rang.

Chelsea stared into the dark void, she didn't know what to do.

**Pheww! That was a SUPER long one. Finally things are starting to get juicy. I'm tired of typing. It's 10 P.M. I'm wiped. I'm going to bed. I hope you guys liked it. (It's Friday, Friday.) 11.2.12**

**P.S.- It may be a couple of days before I complete Chapter 5 (sorry) because now that we established "the mission", it'll take some time for me to figure out what the heck she's going to be doing next. Sigh, the frustrations of writing.**

**P.S.S- Thanks for the reviews and messages guys! I appreciate the love ,Happy Monday (: 11.5.12**


	5. Chapter 5

Super Vague Summary of the Last Chapter: Chelsea is still in her 1st period World History class. We still don't know what she got on her quiz. What we do know is that the video that she received in her email, was a message from Motherboard. Hacker hasn't caused any chaos in a whole year. Celebrations occurred. Somebody's been buying a heck of a lot of supplies from scrap vendors. Hacker is that somebody. What's more is that he's disappeared and no one knows where he is. Motherboard wants her to find and stop him. What are all of the supplies for? What has Hacker been plotting? Where did he go? Is he celebrating too? Will Chelsea return to Cyberspace? Will we EVER find out what she got on her quiz? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Written November 6, 2012

Chapter dedicated to Shannon Lange

Chapter V

November 1, 2012 11:30A.M. CHS 300-Hall Girls' Bathroom Lunch 4th period

It was after her Computer Applications class, she was supposed to be in the Cafeteria for fourth- period lunch. But like any other person who just received a rescue mission from a distressed world leader from an alternate universe, she wasn't hungry. It was impossible for teachers to keep track of three hundred children in the lunch room so sometimes she hung out in the bathroom when she didn't feel like eating.

Chelsea was in the handicap stall on the very end, breathing deeply. She had taken her dark-brown medium-length, kinky-curly hair out of it's pony-tail which was now some sort of wavy,poofy, afro from running her long fingers through it for about the eighth time. She played with her hair when she was deep in thought or unusually nervous.(Unusually, because she is naturally severely paranoid.) Intense inner monologue also results from this combination.

It is this reason that she must escape into the bathroom when she gets like that. If not, people might take one look at her and lock her up in a big, white, fluffy room in a strait jacket.

She finally removed her hand from her hair, sighed, and put her head against the white brick wall. Being surrounded by white didn't make her feel any better, she didn't want to feel any more insane than she was already was.

"What I am going to do-wah" she whined, twiddling her red hair-band.

"Well, standing around in a bathroom stall isn't helping." she soliloquied.

"Shut up."

"Should I even go I mean, If Hacker's gone, that's a good thing right?"

She slapped her forehead.

"Of course that's not a good thing, you imbecile!"

"Cyberspace NEEDS me. And I can't go back because—"

Unbeknowst to her, Shannon, pale-skinned girl who sits next to her at lunch, walked into the bathroom to fix her clothes until she heard someone speaking to herself. She carefully stepped over the last stall.

"Chelsea?" Shannon asked suspiciously.

Chelsea gasped sharply and dropped her hair-band on the floor.

"Uh…yea." She croaked.

"Are you…talking to yourself?" Shannon gaped.

Chelsea cleared her throat. "Yes…uhrm, yes I am."

There was a silence.

A lock clicked and the stall door gradually creaked open.

Chelsea, puffy-do and all, came out and grinned.

"Hi, Shannon, what's new?" she greeted.

Shannon gave her a look and quizzed, "Don't give me any of that 'What's new Shannon?'. Who's Hacker? What's Cyberspace? And why are you going there?"

Chelsea whistled. Shannon was sharp.

Chelsea smirked.

"Long story, hey why don't you go back to eating your putrid little ham sandwich that a mouse is probably snacking on this very moment." she joked as she whipped her hands about her head in a blur, then stopped abruptly to reveal a makeshift hair-bun.

She snickered and playfully smacked me on the shoulder, "Very funny, Chels, but I'm not leaving until I get answers." Shannon leaned comfortably against one of the sinks to prove her point.

She grunted ,still fixing her hair. "Why do you care?"

"Because," she retorted , tightening her belt , combing her finger through her long, raven pony-tail, and pulling down her CATS T-shirt. "I know that you only shut yourself in the bathroom—" She examined her bum. "—and _soliloquize_ when you are upset about something. And I know when someone's soliloquizing, I'm obsessed with musical theater."

"I don't 'soliloquize', I'm not in a play, Shannon," she glinted at her, "I just have to make a really drastic decision, that I really don't want to make."

Shannon made a motion with her had like, _And…._

_You don't have to tell her anything. _

She rolled her eyes, sighed, and took a big breath.

"Ihaveagatewaytoanotherdimens ionwhere2DfiguresliveandIhav e

torescueoneoftheworldsfroma dangerousmadman

whowantstotakeoverandIamtheo nlyonewhocanfindhim

andstophimfromcausingtotalch aos."

Chelsea inhaled greatly and coughed a couple of times.

Shannon, whose large cat-green eyes had widened considerably, hesitated then finally spoke, "Okay, and you need to get to Cyberspace relatively soon right, considering their time is faster than ours in the third dimension, correct?"

Chelsea nodded. She loved that knew someone who shared the relatively same perspicuity, both intellectually and cartoon-wise.

"Exactly. But the place where the Gateway is, is in a building somewhere in town over a mile away."

Shannon nodded.

Chelsea, beginning to get hyper, continued, "But I can't GET there because I'm in SCHOOL, teachers are everywhere, I have NO way to get to the building, AND I'll be 'killed' if I'm caught skipping."

Shannon pondered for a moment. "And this can't wait until after school?"

Chelsea shook her head in exasperation. "Time is of the essence when it comes to Cyberspace. It's already been too long…"

The pair was lost in concentrated thought.

The sound of a light bulb clicked on.

"Your dad is that weird Physics teacher in 100-Hall," Chelsea conjectured.

Shannon pursed her pink, full lips.

"Oops, no offense."

"None taken."

Chelsea kept thinking. "You have him next…he's one who made that crazy moped or something?"

"Yea, it was electric motorcycle…Chelsea what are you brainstorming?" she inquired.

"We may have a solution."

**Loads of dialogue. In fact the whole chapter was dialogue. I apologize for that. I know, still no plot advancements. Don't hit me. In the next chapter. I promise. It's just kind of difficult because I make up the story as I go along. Oh hey, Shannon, if you're reading this, don't you think I described you well? (;**

**Yes, I realize your dad is really a Latin teacher….I just improvised. Love ya girlie. 11.8.12**


	6. Chapter 6 part one

**Hey guise! *U* I just want to say thank you to Daisyfan5534, Kawaii Stella, Aisha, and Sean and whoever else for the kind and encouraging reviews. It really helps me a lot. Like A LOT. And I really mean it. Because, to be honest I was going to stop for a while ,seeing how such a bad plot developer I am and how bland my story seems to be, but now,** **after reading the lovely comments from Chapter 5 I have regained my confidence and present you with a decent Chapter 6 separated into 2 parts. Thank you all so, so much! I lurve you(((((:**

**Question from Sean answered: Yes, Matt, Jackie, Inez, Hacker, and Wicked will be in my story. (Not 100 percent sure about Wicked we'll have to see.)**

**No, sorry, Ledge and Baskerville will not, I have to admit that I have NO idea who these characters are.(Shocker? I'm supposedly an expert) I literally have never seen the last 2 seasons of Cyberchase, because of how frustrated I was with the animators for changing everything. My entire story is going to be based off of memory from when the last time I even watched Cyberchase when I was like, eleven. So long story short, the major characters will be, no, the recent ones will not be. Sorry, if I disappointed you, I hope you still enjoy my story.**

**Now that I've wasted 1,527 characters of space and much of your time, with some coffee one knee and laptop on the other, let's get crack-a-lackin'! (I'm supposed to be doing logarithmic graphing homework { Yes I am the real-life Chelsea- math work- procrastinator} but whatever.) 11.13.12**

**Hey readers, it's been a while. If you want a explanation of why I haven't been updating see my profile. I really am sorry. But let's not dampen things, let's read(: (supposed to be doing a French project, what a joke!) 11.30.12**

Super Vague Summary of the Last Chapter: It is STILL November 1, 2012. Talk about having a _**long**_ day. I don't think we'll ever find out what she got on her quiz. It is 4th period and she has just received a message from Motherboard that Hacker, after a year, has disappeared and is plotting some nefarious plot. She goes into the bathroom during lunch to 'talk things out with herself' when Shannon, a girl who sits next to her at lunch, finds her and wants to help. Chelsea explains what she needs to do. Quite quickly, Shannon grasps the situation and they try to think of a way for her to get out of school. Chelsea then remembers that Shannon dad is a weird Physics teacher. Who also builds mopeds. Or are they motorcycles? Will this day ever end? Can she really trust Shannon? How does Shannon know about Cyberspace? How will she escape school? Will she ever get to Cyberspace? Does it stink in the bathroom? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Written November 6, 2012

Chapter VI: The Plan part one

November 1, 2012 11:45A.M. CHS 300-Hall Girls' Bathroom Lunch 4th period

"We may have a solution." she said matter-of-factly.

"Chelsea, you don't know my dad. He's different." She noted.

She sang, "Yea, well it doesn't mat-ter. I think I've got a pla-an."

"Oh,re-ally," Shannon mocked.

"Yes, it's elementary my dear Watson." Chelsea quoted with an accent.

"Ya know, Sherlock Holmes never said that." she teased.

"Shut up, I know that. GOODness GRAcious."

Chelsea began to unfold her plan and with some minor adjustments (okay, major adjustments) from Shannon, and a cup-full a logic, it was complete.

"Chelsea, I don't think this plan will work. I mean, if you mess up, I'll get in trouble too." she warned.

Chelsea was scribbling ferociously at a steno pad, so she wouldn't forget the details. Though she tried to appear cool, she was scared, she'd never skipped school before or ridden a motorcycle. At least, not on Earth.

Applying excessive amounts of blotting powder on her face, "I know. You shouldn't have to worry, because you've been in Drama since you were six, you're practically a professional actress. Plus, the plan's full-proof. In fact, I think that we've made it so complicated, it's ridiculous."

She placed the powderpuff into the compact, closed it, and returned it to her bag. "Do I look sick enough?"

"You look like a black ghost." she responded.

"Thanks." she grunted, not wanting to respond to the racist joke."Alright, remember we both have to be to class early, the less people who see us ,the better.

"I forgot to ask this before, but how do you know about Cyberspace?" Chelsea inquired.

She smiled, "I watched cartoons when I was little, too."

The bell rang.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

At that point they went their separate ways.

Chelsea headed to her French II class in Room 307, just a few doors away from the bathroom.

Shannon headed to her Physics class in Room 105, all the way across the school.

Before entering the room, Chelsea made sure she put on her greatest queasy look, and staggered inside.

Ms. Waldrup, the young, bubbly, athletic French teacher, sitting in her black swivel chair at her desk, taking attendance, writing with her braced broken arm(she's also the Ultimate Frisbee coach), exclaimed upon her arrival, "Wow, Chelsea, you don't look so hot."

"I don't feel so hot, either." she moaned as she crept over to her desk.

"Do you wanna' go to the nurse?" the teacher said, looking quite concerned.

"Yes, please." she begged.

Ms. Waldrup flipped through a file holder on her desk and grabbed a nurse complaint form with stiff, casted hand.

"I'm going to take my stuff ,in case my mom decides to check me out."

"Sure." She responded as she scrawled her signature on the bottom and checked the boxes for headache and nausea.

She handed the set of papers to her and whispered, "I hope you feel better."

"Thanks Ms. Waldrup." Chelsea smiled weakly.

She shuffled uncomfortably out of the room, hoping to avoid stares of those of her classmates before they realized she was faking it. As she closed the door behind her, she sighed, she was a terrible actress, but she did it. Speaking of actresses…

xxxxx

Shannon Lange was speeding through the hallways dodging and slipping in-between the rush of students. Finally arriving in 100-Hall she stood near the wall, awaiting a certain passerby.

Zach, one of the tallest boys in the tenth grade, was making his way to class surrounded by his many strange, rowdy pals. Shannon ran up to him as he was adjusting his shaggy, dirty-blonde hair.

"Woah!" he exclaimed looking down at the slightly shorter woman.

"Zach, I need you to do something for me." she said hastily.

"Ooooh." his crowd chorused.

"Shut up." she hissed.

"Sure, what's up?" he said, ignoring his comrades.

"Okay," she said, taking a breath, "I need you to stand by my dad's room and blast the loudest, most obnoxious rap music you've got on your Ipod."

"Uh, okay… What's in it for me?" he petitioned slyly.

Shannon smugged, "You get to torment a Physics teacher."

"Good enough for me."

"When I give you the signal, alright?"

He nodded in agreement.

She hurried into the room, and, as expected, there was her father preparing for class, writing some complicated formula on the whiteboard with a pink dry-erase marker. She turned around at winked at Zach who was awaiting her command.

Shannon saw him as he turned up the volume on his Ipod Touch to the maximum, then, without warning, _Party Rock Anthem_ began to blare. It wasn't what she would have called rap music, but it was certainly very obnoxious.

It only took a matter on moments for her plot to take effect.

The older man 's back began to contort, his shoulders tightened, his fingers crooked. He gradually turned his head from facing the board, until she could see his face.

What was revealed was the most disheveled and wild expression ever to be seen by human eyes. His face was twisted into the oddest shape uncovering new sets of wrinkles, his lips swirled in the utmost grimace, and his crazed blue-gray eyes bugged out of his head.

"Who…is making…THAT TERRIBLE RACKET?!" roared.

Even Shannon felt a bit afraid. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

The man exploded out of the room hunting for his victim. He locked eyes with Zach who was bobbing his head to the pulsing beat. He froze in terror.

"You!" he growled.

Zach yelped as he took off down the hallway chased by an elderly maniac.

With the coast clear, and only a couple of kids in the classroom, Shannon went to work on her search of the key. She had approximately three minutes until her father ended his rampage (after possibly murdering Zach) and returned to the room.

xxxxx

Chelsea was on her way to 500-Hall passing a few rushing students hoping not to be late for their next classes. She stopped in front of locker 5010.

It was a top locker, she was five foot one, and ,as such, she had to reach up to get to the dial. Left to fourty-two, right passing zero to twelve, left passing back over zero to thirty-five, she spun subconsciously. She lifted the latch and swung the miniature door open. She put her textbooks, notebooks, journals, and folders inside, she wouldn't be needing any school materials in Cyberspace. She kept only her little olive green cross-body handbag, which she took with her everywhere.

Now to Room 105.

xxxxx

Shannon wasn't having any luck thus far and cursed as she reexamined the drawers in 's desk. She flipped her raven ponytail to her back. _Come ON, where is it? _She couldn't think of anywhere she hadn't searched.

She peered up over from behind the desk. At the far side of the classroom was a fake fern which was sprinkling its synthetic foliage all over the white-tile floor and behind it was a tired old supply cabinet clinging to the wall for support. _Could it be in there? _

After making sure she put back everything in its proper place, so that his things looked like they hadn't been tampered with, she squeezed between desks and leapt over tables, knocking over a chair in the process. Reaching the other end of the room, she moved, with difficulty, the giant plastic plant, further littering the ground with fallen leaves. She tried the handle to the ancient closet, and thankfully, it wasn't locked.

Creaking the double doors open, she could tell it hadn't been used in a while. And there, on the second shelf, was a key. Shannon had no idea what a motorcycle key looked like so she couldn't be certain that it was the one or not. Nonetheless, it was the only one she found and was running out of time so she snatched it off the shelf (in the process sending much dust into the air), shut the cabinet, replaced the fern, and clambered back to her seat. She received countless looks from students around the room, and she gave them a _What he's MY dad, I can go through his stuff if I want _look.

As if on cue, her father stormed through the door and the bell initiating fifth-period rang. Shannon panted in relief, then her heart dropped. _I hope I have the right one_.

**Thank you. All of you, for your patience.**


	7. Chapter 6 part two

Written November 6, 2012

Super Vague Summary of The Last Chapter: There isn't one. Read the part one if wanna' know what happened. (;

Chapter VI: The Plan part two

November 1, 2012 12:07P.M. CHS Main Hallway (Supposed to be in French II) 5th period

Meanwhile, Chelsea is on her way to 100-Hall. By now the bell had rung, she now had to be weary of "wardens" now roaming the school, catching any skippers the might be lurking the halls. Dodging cameras, and avoiding standerbys, Chelsea knew that she could get caught. Panic-stricken, she was just about to turn the corner into 100, when she crashed head-on into a teacher.

"Whoops, goodness gracious, I am **so** sorry." She apologized as she walked around the woman so as to leave her presence as quickly as possible.

"Hold on a second."

Chelsea stopped in mid-step. _Busted!_

"Where are you going?" the lady demanded, no doubt feeling Chelsea's awkward sense of urgency.

"Uh…I'm going to class…from the nurse."

She was silent, waiting for a better explanation.

Chelsea then remembered the papers had given her that she, in her haste and anxiousness, had punctured with her lion-like claws, and crumpled them in her thin, sweaty palms. Attempting to straighten them out, she rubbed the forms against the corner of the wall. (As you would a dollar bill before reinserting it into a stubborn vending machine.)

"Here is my pass." she presented, covering Ms. Waldrup's signature with her finger in showing them to the lady, in case she realized the French room was on the complete other side of the school.

"Alright." the woman accepted, satisfied, "I'm glad you're better. Just slow down next time."

She chuckled, "Yes, Miss.", and turned the corner.

Chelsea slinked down 100-Hall to Room 105, lest she got stopped again by a more questioning teacher.

Arriving, she heightened herself on her tip-toes to peer through the blue tinted window on the heavy, wooden door. Chelsea almost cackled when she saw Mr. Lange screaming at a student. He had apparently written the Universal Gravitation formula incorrectly. _Shannon said he was crackers. Okay, well maybe she didn't say "crackers". _

"Poor boy."

Scanning the classroom for Shannon, she found a sleek, black pony-tailed girl, slouched in a plastic blue chair, fiddling nervously with a familiar chibi Marik keychain. _Yup._ Dangling from the chain was indeed a key. It was time.

She rapped softly, and within a few moments the door was opened by a short, freckled boy with light brown hair and big, sad eyes.

"Thank you."

He nodded and Chelsea proceeded through, awkwardly, upon realizing that he was the same boy who had just been verbally abused.

She surveyed the classroom; all eyes were on her except for the few that were busy texting on their Smartphones. Her gaze fell upon Shannon; who was glancing about apprehensively. Chelsea tried to appear calm as she cleared her throat and addressed the disgruntled Physics teacher, "I apologize for disrupting your class, sir,-"

Her mind blanked, she had stage-fright to an extreme degree, which unfortunately had caused her to completely forget the excuse that they had devised for her. _Add lib._

"Uh..."

Chelsea's eyes shot to Shannon, who was signaling to her handbag. She regarded her purse, not understanding, and discreetly reached into it and pulling out the largest thing her dainty fingers struck.

"A graphing calculator?"

Shannon nodded from the far end of the room, who was, favorably, not being noticed.

Chelsea corrected herself, "I mean, yea, the graphing calculator."

Two stray wires connected with a heated spark in her brain.

Shannon was pointing at herself, frenziedly.

Chelsea's black, cat-like eyes glittered.

"Uh…Shannon. Shannon's graphing calculator."

She realigned her focus with the old man.

"Shannon let me use her graphing calculator this afternoon at lunch…for my Math homework of course."

She twiddled the hefty device in her tan, slender hands.

"And when lunch ended, in my haste, I rushed to class, forgetting all about the calculator, and I when I arrived to class and realized I still had the calculator, I ran over, knowing she had Physics and thought she may need it, so here I am…returning it to her."

Chelsea, not pausing for a sign of approval from Mr. Lange, she waded through the sea of bumfuzzled students. Shannon was waiting in her seat, giving her the smile of approval herself. As their hands met on the calculator, Chelsea felt a cold oddly-shaped object and some paper forced into her palm. She let go of the contraption, and promptly inserted her hand in her India green blazer pocket.

"Thank you." Chelsea smiled.

"You're welcome." Shannon winked.

As she sashayed back towards the door, she apologized again to and the class.

"Bye, Chels'." Shannon waved and nodded.

"Bye, Shannon." and she winked back, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Shannon was telling her to be safe.

The slam of the heavy door closed behind her, and all the attention turned to Shannon.

Mr. Lange squinted.

"Did that girl honestly leave class and come all the way down here, just to return a calculator?"

Shannon shrugged with fake boredom, "She didn't want me to be unprepared." Mr. Lange ignored the interruption and continued instruction.

Chelsea advanced down the hallway, and removed a torn piece of loose leaf paper from her jacket pocket. It read, "Nice save, good luck girl."

She stuck the noted back in her pocket, grinned, and rolled her eyes. Chelsea personally didn't believe in luck, yet she sympathized with herself, "I'm going to need it."

XXXXX

Chelsea took the fastest route from the building, outside. Her stomach churned with every pending thump of her black leather combat boots on the tiled floor. Chilly winds greeted her face as she left the school, and she took at deep breath of the cold. Trees of lovely yellows, reds, orange whipped about and colored leaves flitted about the campus. Oh yes, it was November. Their foliage crunched under her shoes and she trudged forward in thought. Shannon never told her where exactly the motorcycle was, for she had never seen it herself. Finding it was **her **job. What she was told however, that the last time the machine was revved up, several years ago, that it nearly exploded when a trickster Senior decided to give it a "test run" without Mr. Lange's knowledge, and the principal ordered that it be away from where other students could meddle with it. She darted from one car lot to the other, with no success. _Away._ It was only to be expected that it wouldn't have been amongst the other vehicles. She chuckled. Chelsea knew how some red-necks felt about their trucks' "safety".

A half an hour later Chelsea had stealthily and thoroughly searched the campus of the school: behind the trailers, around the tennis court, and even the forested area by the track field. Having jogged this entire time, she was wiped. Plodding over to the stairs outside, leading into the Gym, she sprawled out over the freezing concrete on the top step. A chill shot up her aching spine. Chelsea felt like a popsicle, sweating from her tiring hunt yet raw from the icy November winds. Her throat was painfully dry and her nose rosy and running profusely and had since used all of her spare tissues. Sniffling, she struggled to her feet and, with difficulty, pushed the weighty metal door, painted red with school pride, and shivered on inside.

To her relief, the Gym was empty and Chelsea stole across the wall on its far end, to the squeal of her black boots on the polished floor, where an old water-fountain was. Taking a long gulps of the tainted water, she crouched down and listened to the hum of the appliance, thinking. She cursed herself, if she would have simply walked to her destination, she would have arrived there already. Chelsea skin was gradually toasting in the warm, stale, smelly air of the Gym, and in her comfort, she considered giving up and going back to class.

"Quitter." she mumbled.

She peered up at the adjacent wall across from the water-fountain and regarded a brightly colored poster in which she had seen about a hundred copies of all over the school. It read, "Now recruiting new members for the CHS Lacrosse Team! Touch base with Coach Segall in Room 413 for try-out forms!"

Chelsea couldn't give a cookie crumb about sports, but she did know that that CHS had the worst lacrosse team in the county.

"Lamest sport ever." she muttered to herself.

She squatted, pondering over her failed rescue attempt and wondered what Motherboard must think of her. There was a lot for her to think about, yet she couldn't keep her mind off the fact that she let Cyberspace down, who knows what could be happening….Now she was crouching all alone with the taste of dirty water in her mouth next to an old water-fountain in a stale, smelly Gym with only a stupid florescent flyer to stare at. She fixed her ragged, dilapidated bun with another swift whip of her hands. Slowly lowering her arms the ground, letting her vision get blurry and fade out, she closed her eyelids, and rested her head on the wall. _Hacker's been quiet…very long time…more dangerous than ever…Cyberspace needs you…our only hope…ham sandwich…a solution…good luck…lacrosse…_

Chelsea suddenly gasped and stood up instantly. _Worst lacrosse team ever. _

She sprinted to the Gym exit door, the rattle of the things in her purse as it bumped her hip echoed throughout the room. She glanced behind her, and placed both hands on the handle. As she opened it, her skin was nicked by the bitter cold, causing goose-bumps to rise on her skinny arms. She ignored her discomfort. The chills were bracing, fueling her energy to her newfound theory.

Chelsea raced over to the soccer field, her twiggy jeaned legs flailing. Her heart stopped briefly as she hid behind a white Toyota Camry as some freshmen returned from running "the mile" outside at the park below. Breathing becoming steady as the Gym teacher, Coach Quam (Known to her as Kumquat) walked by. She hated the old man, and sniffed angrily as he stamped by. His stupid class nearly ruined her freshman year; she must have run a thousand laps around that Gym along with the other poor ninth graders who had all been in much better shape than she was.

"Poor freshies."

Forgetting her resentment, she was glad to be protected by the winds. She wanted to stay there, to rest…But she couldn't. Just a couple of hours to her were half-days in Cyberspace. Who know what could happen if there were any more delays. She leapt up, determined.

Running past the field, with the poor children limping up the hill in the distance, she saw it.

When CHS finally received the grant from the government (that they had been requesting several years before), along with many other "upgrades", the school was able to establish an official sports equipment building. As result of this, the old, wooden lacrosse equipment unit wasn't needed any longer and the shed was abandoned and left to rot. Skipping now as an expression of triumph, she had arrived. The hutch was leaning slightly to the right, the warped planks signs of its endurance. Despite its deplorable appearance, she knew, inside, could be her passport to Cyberspace.

**Hey guys... more suspense. But really I'm putting on Chapter seven now so you won't have to wait.(; Cuz' I'm just nice like that.-12.24.12**


	8. Chapter 7

Super Vague Summary of that Really Long Last Chapter: So great, Shannon and Chelsea have finally put their plan into action! (Still November 1st) Chelsea played sick to her French teacher and got a pass to go to the nurse and instead went towards Room 105 where Shannon's class was. Meanwhile, Shannon arranged a scheme for a friend to blast annoying music to distract her dad/teacher to leave the room. During this time, Shannon searched to class room and found, in an old cabinet, what she assumed to be the key for the motorcycle. Chelsea was stopped by a nosy teacher, who she fooled and continued into the classroom. She was nervous upon entering and almost forgot her "lines" that she was supposed to say but Shannon helped her and the transaction was complete. They said goodbye to one another and Chelsea headed outdoors to find the vehicle. She scoured the entire school campus for it, and before losing her hopes, she remembered about an old equipment shed where she knew the motorcycle had to be. Did find out Shannon's plan? Did Shannon give Chelsea the right key? Is Chelsea's theory right? Is the motorcycle even in the shed? Is Chelsea going to get Cyberspace? Will she run out of time? Does CHS's lacrosse team really suck? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

Written over the last few days (can't remember the dates). Well today is the first of December, let's go with that.

Chapter VII: The Getaway

November 1, 2012 12:46P.M. Somewhere at CHS (Supposed to be in French II) 5th period

As she approached the rickety shed, Chelsea glanced about her to make sure she was completely alone. Kumquat (what she called her old gym teacher) would be taking 6th period students down to the park to run soon, so she had to be weary.

Her steps slackened as she took a moment to ponder her actions. If opened that shed and took that motorcycle (if it was even there), she could be liable of trespassing and theft. For the first time that morning, she was thinking rationally. Chelsea halted in her tracks as a strong wind passed, whipping countless leaves about her legs, encircling her. There, on the door-latches of the dilapidated shed, was a rusty padlock. Her eyelids lowered. _*sigh* Great. Breaking and entering_.

She reached up and yanked on the lock as hard as she could, the stupid thing, as old as it was, wouldn't budge.

"Dammit!" she shot (her first curse of the day), kicking the dirt and leaves surrounding her feet. She quieted herself. Getting upset and cursing wouldn't help matters. Though, in her rage and cold, she considered burning down the shed. Chelsea snickered at her own idea, even if she wanted to burn it down, she never carried around matches anyway.

She reexamined the padlock. Locks like those had keys that were flat, rounded on top with generally uncomplicated blade patterns. Chelsea could open it with a simple hairpin, but in an irritated search through her again-undone hair bun, she found she didn't have one. She was going over the contents of her handbag to possibly find one, when she felt something metallic strike her finger. Pulling out the key Shannon gave her, she felt its smooth surface in her hand.

"Could it be?"

Unlike the rusty lock, the key Shannon gave her was silver, glinting. With hopefulness, she stuck the key inside the chamber (with a couple of harsh jiggles) the tumbler turned over with a click. She couldn't believe it. Chelsea removed the lock and the heavy chains fell in a tired heap.

Chelsea took the handle gripped by both hands and thrust herself back. She misjudged its sturdiness as the handle tore off and she toppled to the ground. She sighed as she stood up, rubbed her bum, tossed the handle away, and pried open the stubborn door with a crack of the moistened wood.

She brandished a stick in front of her face to ward away cobwebs. Chelsea felt an itching sensation creep over her as she saw a black spider crawl past her boot. She gulped and wished she had a flashlight. _Never that prepared of course. _She remembered her IPod. With the snap of the unlock button, a tiny disk of illumination appeared on the ground. It wasn't nearly enough, but it did its job. Chelsea showed the faded light in front of her. Revealed almost magically was what she had been looking for.

Proceeding to push the abandoned machine, she grunted as she pulled it carefully outside the shed. Putting her hands on her knees, she threw her head back and hollered with laughter. Now that the vehicle was into the full sunlight, what was exposed was neither a moped nor a scooter; it was a little electric bike, a motorcycley-thingy. (Pfft, like she knew what it was called.) _Yea, just like I said Shannon, hehe._

"How quaint." she clapped.

Chelsea assumed it was painted a bright lime green once, but now was a spoiled baby-food colour. She doubted it was road legal; she would have to stay on the sidewalks, that is, if the blasted thing worked at all. It was a pathetic excuse for motorcycle and upon an inspection of the build; it was definitely composed of all used parts. There was no windshield, no crash bar, no turn signal (well no unbroken lights whatsoever), no back seat, no shock-absorber, and who knew how many more missing/destroyed parts there were. The seat's cheap pleather was torn, the gauges were all busted, and the rear-view mirrors were cracked. She was surprised the rickety side-stand was still hanging on. Well… on the bright side, there was a battery, handlebars, and wheels. And… she didn't weigh very much. Less than one hundred and ten pounds. Still, could it hold up? It was indeed a sad little contraption. Just its appearance was disheartening. What was she kidding. Chelsea then remembered she no longer had a key to it (though she never really had it in the first place). All hope left had diminished.

_I could steal a bicycle._ No. It would probably belong to some poor innocent freshman who had to ride it to and from school every day. Nope, she had no choice; she had to 'hotwire' it.

As a young girl, she had taught herself how to hotwire cars, lock-pick, and hack complicated computer systems (Chelsea, a Hacker? *gasp*) when she was convinced that was going to work for the CIA and become the nation's youngest undercover agent. _Boy was I crackers. _But that was some time ago, plus the fact she had no experience with motorcycles or its circuitry. Attempting, to 'start' it (especially with no proper equipment) was going to be a challenge.

Chelsea rummaged through her things through her things and pulled out a Swiss Army Knife. Its tiny utilities obviously weren't designed to disassemble and rewire a motorcycle, but she would have to make do. She felt it a shame to tear up the poor thing, but for the sake of Cyberspace it had to be done. (And if it didn't work, it couldn't be in much worse shape, anyway.) Chelsea didn't even know how or why installed a key-operated ignition on the bloody thing. It isn't like anybody wanted it. Except her of course. Still aggravated, Chelsea cut her losses and got to work.

(Disclaimer: Do not attempt to start a motorcycle that doesn't belong to you using this method {or any}. Not only because it only works on primitive vehicles and my explanation leaves out some important details, but because doing it is destruction of personal property and theft. I DO NOT want to be responsible for stolen bikes because some smart person read my fanfiction and got ideas, kay-kay? You were warned. (; )

Chelsea located the thick wiring sleeve for the ignition coming out of the handle bar area. She followed it to its end where she knew three multicoloured wired should be. She found a plastic wiring cap along the body of the bike. The black cap had more wires plugged into its head. Chelsea strained to pull the two caps apart from each other. She took the Swiss Army Knife blade and carefully pried them asunder. She held onto the lower portion of the wiring. After some examination and ripping she situated the speaker wire in her left hand. She stuck one end into an eye of the cap of the first wire and the other end into an eye of the cap of the second wire. After several different combination of selected 'cap-eyes', Chelsea turned the red ignition switch in the center of the instrument panel for the umpteenth time, she saw a little faded blue light flick on over the speedometer and the click of the engine.

"Ha. Haha. HAHAHAHA, OHH YES, IT W-HER-HERKS!" she chuckled hysterically at her impossible accomplishment.

"WOOHOO! YEAH BABY!"

She situated her bum on the dismantled seat. It wasn't the loud roar of a Kawalski. But it was a cackled whir of satisfaction. She didn't know how long it would operate well for, so she took action. Chelsea leaned over and placed both of her hand on the handlebar, and turned back the throttle grips. The ancient machine coughed, and leapt to life.

"Ye-he-hes. It's show tiiime."

**Sorry guys…yes I'm still alive. Did you like it? Please tell me so. Chelsea will go to Cyberspace next chapter. No I'm not bluffing anymore. I promise. You know how I know? Because I wrote it already. Bah-BAM!- 12.24.12**


	9. Chapter 8

Super Vague Summary of The Last Chapter: So people you know the drill…it's still November 1st. Chelsea finally found the shed and opened it with the key Shannon gave her. She discovered what she called a 'motorcycley-thingy' in pretty bad shape. Now she had no key. She eventually started it by using her knowledge of car circuitry and hotwired it. Will the motorcyley-thingy break down? Will she get caught by the police? Will she be taken back to school? Where is she going? Well I'll tell you this one… Now she's on her way to… uh, to…well uh…never mind. Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions. (;

Written this week. Sorry I've been working on a new story so I neglected this one. Sorry my little fanfiction. *pets laptop*

Chapter VIII: The Gateway

November 1, 2012 1:33P.M. Somewhere in town (Supposed to be in 10th grade Lit) 6th period

She bobbed and lurched up the hill and eventually off campus (unfortunately catching a couple of puzzled stares from Seniors on their way to their cars for lunch). Every thirty meters or so it would slow down to a stop and would have to hop off and give it a good push to get it revved up again. It was extremely aggravating, but hey, at least it hadn't exploded.

Chelsea took all of the side-streets least she was spotted and stopped by a cop. Main roads were not unavoidable, unfortunately, so she had to be very careful of side-walks,cross-walks, traffic lights, pedestrians, and all those other things that were crucial to both her life and those around her (; (Sorry, I don't drive yet.)

She was in the center of town, right where she needed to be. (I was going to let Chelsea get stopped by a policeman, but then I was like no, no more delays. She needs to actually _**get **_somewhere before my readers die of excess of boredom. So, please don't be disturbed if I kinda' rush things for the next few paragraphs, okay. Because trust me, even *I* don't understand all of the details (; ) Chelsea peered up at the massive building in front of her emitting a stunning aura, Technology Center Inc. . She went around the back and parked the cycle in the lot. She waltzed through the front sliding glass doors, closing behind her with a hiss. _Wow. _She was surrounded in a dream of granite, steel, and glass. Everything around her whispered classy from the glossy marble underneath her feet, to the sleek furniture in the waiting area, to the craning security cameras watching her in every corner. She had forgotten how brilliant the place looked, obviously with a few major upgrades the past few years.

"Chelsea?" said a orotund, female newscaster-like voice.

Chelsea snapped out of her faze. She knew that voice. She looked to the shiny, mahogany receptionist desk where a tall, attractive woman with a neat blonde bun sat, stunned.

"Ms. Gilbert?" she breathed.

"Little Miss Chelsea Carson, is that you?" exclaimed the woman.

"Ms. Gilbert!"

The sound of Chelsea's dirty boots echoed throughout the room as she scampered over to the desk.

"It's been so long!" they chorused. They both fell into a cacophony of laughter. Chelsea had a strange feeling she'd be saying that many more times that afternoon.

"How many years has it been?" Chelsea chuckled.

"It feels like forever. How have you been, my dear?"

"Great." That was the biggest lie in the world.

"Are you still a Ms. Gilbert or-" Chelsea pried, raising her eyebrows deceitfully.

"Well now that you asked-"

The woman held up a long, freshly manicured hand with a diamond ring sparkling on her finger.

Chelsea gasped deeply.

"You got married! Oh my goodness, congratulations -"

" ." she proudly interrupted.

"Ooh, excuse me,Mrs. Gottfried, ooh lala." Chelsea teased.

"So much has changed since I've been here," she said glancing about her.

"So is here? I've got to go see him-" she babbled excitedly, beginning to walk down the right corridor.

Mr. Spencer was British man in his late fourties, the president who founded Technology Center, Inc. that Chelsea would work for after school. (Her mother, used to be his secretary until she found another job.) Occasionally, giving her a few dollars to run errands for him.

"Uh," stammered completely changing tone, "He's not here today."

Chelsea chortled, "Well of COURSE he's here, he hasn't missed a day of work in ten years!" still heading down the hall.

"Chelsea, come back."

She huffed and skipped back over to her desk, "This is urgent , I have to see him right now."

Mrs. Gottfried appeared crushed as she looked down.

"What's wrong ?"

"Honey, is... dead, dear. He died two years ago."

Chelsea did a double take and squinted.

"Wh-What did you say?" she croaked.

Mrs. Gottfried eyes filled with remorse as she continued, "After you stopped coming a few years ago, the company was becoming more and more successful with new innovations, business was booming. was on his way to make an important business deal, when he died in a car crash."

Chelsea face was inert.

"His life was under much strain at that time, I'm sure if the car crash didn't kill him, he would have died from stress. You know Mr. Spencer, always taking on more than his fair share."

She sniffed.

"He mentioned you in his will."

Chelsea's eyed widened. "He did?"

"Something about a gateway, nobody knew what he was talking about and no one could get in contact with you to tell you about his death. Do you know what he was talking about?"

Chelsea sniffed again and nodded.

"What is it?"Mrs. Gottfried queried, keeping tears away from her gold eye makeup.

"I don't have time to explain it to you, right now, Mrs. Gottfried. But I promise one day I'll tell you." she vowed.

"I really need to get to his room though, is it still there?" she insisted.

"Yes, the third room on the right, top floor, like always. Do you remember the code?" she smiled consolingly.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Gottfried." she smiled back.

Chelsea rushed down the hallway and pushed the green circular up button next to the elevator. She could think of nothing else as she entered, ascended, left the elevator, strolled down the halls, reached his door, registered the code '19823' into the security box to the tone 'Welcome, Miss Chelsea'(if she ended the code with a '4' instead of a '3' it would have said 'Welcome Master Spencer'), and turned the handle, but the way 's face used to gleam whenever she…

Chelsea was taken aback.

Entered.

His room. She remembered it well. It looked just like your average office but used to belong to a very unaverage man.

"Ah,hello Miss Chelsea, late again as usual." he would say, most likely rummaging through some paperwork. She would come in all flustered, giving him some fabulous excuse. He would 'punish' her by immediately ordering her off to make him a cup of English tea. She was late so often, she would just make it ahead of time. Chelsea loved making him tea, she considered it her job. She chuckled at the times she would fix it slightly different then the way he liked it and would send her back, muttering strings of curses, to make him another cup. When she came back he would dispatch her to run some errands. Secretly though, she knew he admired her company. By the time he'd finish his second cup of tea, he was relaxed and would talk to her about England or test some new invention on her. But her favorite thing about being 's intern was, and he knew…The Gateway.

One day, Mr. Spencer had left his office to answer a phone call, and hadn't given Chelsea anything to do. She was bored, so like she did whenever she was alone; she began to sing to herself. In the middle of a 'dance number', she tripped and knocked over one of 's signature busts of himself off its pedestal, chipping his ear. Frantically trying to steady it on a similar pedestal next to it, there was click and the entire pedestal disappeared into the floor also activating the tiles around it on the floor to dissipate into a ramp, leading a screaming little girl down into a secret room.

found her, of course screaming curses in his strong British accent, eventually calmed and explained to her, "My dear, Miss Chelsea, I have discovered a portal to another dimension." Using much complicated and technological speech, he attempted to clarify what it all meant. Her being young, understood none of it. She did remember him saying, "Miss Chelsea, if you could go anywhere, anywhere in the universe, where would you go?" Chelsea loved Cyberchase with all her tiny heart and always wished she could personally meet the Cybersquad. Her face filled with childish joy as she said, "Cyberspace." The only reason he knew what that was because of the many days Chelsea spent telling him enthusiastically about the latest episodes.

"Then my dear, you shall go to Cyberspace." And she did. It was the happiest day of her life. It was the day her dreams came true. What Chelsea didn't know was that the portal could only take one person at a time and once programmed, couldn't be sent to any other place. Which meant Chelsea and only Chelsea could go to Cyberspace and only Cyberspace. Mr. Spencer knew he would miss out on territory unexplored, but he made sure he did enough research and experiments with Chelsea to try to alter its technology, and to make a pretty penny, nonetheless. Nobody else knew about it except for them. Everyday after she finished all of her work, she would say, "Mr. Spencer , can I go?" Sometimes he would be mean and say no, but ninety-eight percent of the time, he said yes. Those were her Adventures Unrecorded. Even now she couldn't explain how it worked. She had grown up, and stopped coming. He died never completing his project. And now she was back.

Chelsea felt slightly eerie, being in his old room again. But she was on a mission, no time for emotions. She walked over to the left side of the room, near the built-in library. And there was the bust with the broken ear. "And you say that I should listen to you more often, why I never in all my life-" he'd said. She smiled at the memory. With shaky hands she lifted up the heavy bust off of the right pedestal and gently placed it in the center of the left pedestal. The familiar soft click. Startling her slightly, the pedestal instantaneously disappeared through the ground. Chelsea quickly situated herself down on floor, hugging her knees and closing her eyes, awaiting the dreaded plummet. There was a quiet beep and a whir. The tile she was sitting on and the three behind her dropped, slanting sharply downward.

"Weee!"

The slippery surface converged into a metal slide, spiraling down into the darkness. Chelsea landed in a harsh thump. She rubbed her bum. She remembered the soreness. Chelsea felt along the wall for the switch. She flicked it and the lights come on in succession. Two, four, six, and eight, illuminating all the way to the end of the secret chamber. The only sounds heard were the whir of the lamps, her heavy breathing, and the low hum and of the machinery in front of her. Chelsea walked over to the center of the room watching her reflection bounce along in the shiny floor below. In the middlepoint of the lab was a metal podium with tiny star-like lights around the rim. Attached to the podium was a frosted glass triaugmented triangular pyramid prism (look it up since I know you don't know what one looks like (: ). There was a steel keypad embedded into the podium, dusty from lack of use. The Gateway.

Chelsea's finger shook as the push the tiny red 'on' button beneath the key pad. The prism slowly faded into a pale celeste hue and the little lights around the podium twinkled. "Enter Regional Encryption" said an English disembodied voice. The familiar sight brought tears to her eyes as she regarded the faded numbers on the keys light up that she used type on so often. Chelsea keyed"608341" without so much having to give it a second thought. She had typed it hundreds of times in the past; the code itself seemed like an old friend. The sight was brilliant as she punched the 'Enter' button and a vivid, radiant beacon of swirling amaranthine illumination appeared in front of the prism. _The portal. _The portals that appear from The Gateway take the form of orbs (around the size of a basketball) that could be activated by a single touch. Chelsea reached out and touched the violet orb of luminescence with the tip of her finger. _Here it goes. _With the crack of the sound barrier, Chelsea disappeared without a trace. The orb vanished with a purple wisp, the prism's light faded out, and the machine shut down with a monotone "Goodbye."

**Oh my goodness! It only took me eight chapters and Chelsea is finally going to Cyberspace! Can you believe it?! And hey. It's Christmas, too. How ironic. – 12.25.12**

**P.S.- I just now realized that I never put a disclaimer of ownership on my fanfiction…all well. You guys read enough of those.- 12.25.12**

**P.S.S.-Review and favorite please! And cybercookies to those who caught the Digit reference!**


	10. Chapter 9

Greetings once again my dear readers! How long has it been! Like two months? I sincerely apologize for my belated posting. I've been working on a new fanfiction called One Hundred Days (You should check it out…) and I've really been involved in it and hadn't been motivated to write. But now I FINALLY have introduced the characters you've all been waiting for to make up for it! Enjoy!

Disclaimer(Yes for once I'm going to put one): I do not wish to be sued so in case you haven't guessed this…I do not own PBS Kids, therefore, I do not own Cyberchase or its characters. If I did however, the show would still be broadcasted up to this day. Kay thanks.

Super Vague Summary of The Last Chapter: It will ALWAYS be November 1st , muhahahaha!…Just kidding. Anyways. Chelsea has gotten on her motorcycle and ridden to Technology Center Inc. There she reunited with her old friend, the receptionist, which informed her that the head of the company, Mr. Spencer, had died in a car crash. The woman mentioned to her that she had been spoken of in his will regarding a 'gateway'. Chelsea promised of one day explained to her what that meant and went away to find her old employer's room. Entering the room reminded her of her many days and memories with Mr. Spencer at Tech. Center. She activated a secret passageway to a hidden room to which contained The Gateway. Her ticket to Cyberspace. Does The Gateway actually go to Cyberspace? If it does, what awaits her there? Has she been forgotten? Find out in this chapter of The Digital Dimensions.

The exact time will be distorted, so no longer will the date and time be specified at the beginning of the chapters.

Chapter IX

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahooooo ooo!"

Chelsea screamed at the top of her lungs, tumbling, twisting, and turning as she was propelled through a massive swirling purple vortex, algebraic equations and symbols shooting past her like fireworks. She had forgotten how exhilarating it felt to be shot like a ballistic through a computerized wormhole. Feeling as weightless as a feather.

Since she was being sent through several alternate dimensions (she is coming from the REAL, real world after all), the process of being transported took longer and was much more complicated than if she was being sent from an animated world. At some points she felt compressed, as if all of the virtual matter was squeezing in on her. Sometimes she felt parts of her body were nonexistent, even stretching across several varying planes. Other times, though, she just felt nauseous.

Then, as quickly as she came, she was launched out of a spinning disk of light into the air, members flailing about her. Gravity, once again taking its effect, yanked her body downwards to a hard, unwelcoming ground.

"Ooof!"

Chelsea took a fantastic landing, head-first onto the floor. Billowy hair spilling over her face as she attempted to sit up, she rubbed her forehead.

"Uhnn..."

Oh, yes. She remembered portals well.

Chelsea took her arm and flipped her hair out of her eyes. She realized her hair band must have fallen out on her way down the slide as her long, curly locks fell past her neck. _All well._

She then took in her surroundings. She loved that whatever world she entered in, her appearance was reconstructed to appear with the correct physical build. In this case, she was two-dimensional, yet she 'perceived' everything in great detail as if it was three-dimensional.

(Kind of confusing. If she was on a TV screen, she would look animated. But since her eyes were fixed, animation looks real to her. Does that make sense? If not, just know that everything looks the same.)

Chelsea was in a gigantic, dome-shaped violet room on some sort of immense metal suspense bridge. Above her were black and gold, web-like beams holding up one massive glass canopy. Outside of the many windows they made, a green, glittering pixilated sky poured across in the infinite, heavenly landscape. _Wow._ Control Central.

Before her were black three swivel chairs facing in the opposite direction, pointing towards the colossal, upside-down-trapezoid-shaped monitor rimmed with golden accents at the top. On the projected on the screen itself was a familiar periwinkle, digitalized, older woman's face with her eyes closed surrounded by pulsing pink and blue rings. _Motherboard._

The initial chair on the left was the first to spin around to the noise of her thud. A beautiful, dark-skinned woman with great chocolate-brown eyes and lengthy, curly eyelashes appeared. Her shiny, black hair was tied up in an unusually messy bun with a fluffy, yellow scrunchie. She was wearing a short light-blue, plaited skirt on top of daintily crossed legs, a warm, yellow long-sleeved blouse, purple converse high-top sneakers, and a red beaded choker about her neck, with matching stud earrings.

There was a gasp as the woman stood. "No way…Chelsea?"

"Jackie?" said Chelsea, a smile crawling across her face.

"Cheeeeeelsseeeeeaaaaa!"

Jackie squealed at an insanely high pitch, all the way down the ramp to encase the much smaller and lighter toned-black woman in her arms and spin her around.

"I can't believe it's you! Ahhhhh! No way, no way, NO WAY!" she continued to scream in her ears, as she remembered that it was customary to hear Jackie repeat phrases in threes.

She finally set Chelsea down grinning widely, pearly whites sparkling, "Sorry. It's just been so loooong since I've seen my little sis'!"

Even though she was only a year younger, Jackie always considered her like a little sister. They would do each other's hair, talk on the Squaks for hours, and go on extensive shopping sprees, offering each other splendid fashion advice. As she would say, "Black girls gotta' stick together!"

But secretly, she'd always been jealous of her. Jackie had the clearest skin, the longest legs, a winning smile, and straightest figure. Chelsea had freckles, short height, a slight gap between her two front teeth (which she was constantly reminded how it made her look cute but never accepted), and well, let's just say as far as body type, mature was an understatement. Regardless, she never let her envy tear their relationship asunder. She loved her way too much.

"And I've missed my big sis'!" and she reached up and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. An affable greeting that was normal between the two so close.

Jackie smoothed Chelsea's billowy, curly locks and twirled them with her dainty fingers and snickered, "It's so funny…"

She took the darker hand in hers and patted it. "What's funny?"

Sullenly, Jackie choked on her own words as she sniveled, "I-I even miss your hair."

Instantly she was tugged into another fond squeeze by her not-blood sister and grinned at how much she adored Jackie's emotional nature.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a throat clearing and Chelsea let go of Jackie.

A Hispanic though Caucasian-looking woman less than an inch shorter than Chelsea emerged into the corner of her view. She wore clear contacts over her chest-nut eyes, red lipstick on her thin lips, shoulder length light-brown hair framing her face, and to her utmost surprise, a silver nose ring.

Chelsea pivoted her head towards the beautiful young girl standing in the middle of the suspension bridge. She sported a lilac long sleeved shirt adorned with a yellow star, a purple sleeveless vest, high calved blue boots, and teal-coloured shorts showing off her smooth legs.

_Inez. _

The girl tucked a tendril behind her ear into her neat, freshly combed hair and clodded towards Chelsea with serious clicks of her cerulean boots on the metallic floor. She stopped when she was face to face with the secret Cybermate, bridge to bridge with her nose, giving her a stoic glare. Her round, amber-colored eyes shot through Chelsea's wide, cat-shaped black eyes. Her gaze was cold and relentless.

Chelsea gave a mental gulp. Had she developed some sort of resentment? She'd left her and everyone else. Without even saying farewell. What had she been thinking of her all these years?

She was almost fearful of what her old friend would do. Then she remembered.

Chelsea's full, pouted lips gave an amused smirk. She knew this game. A game of intimidation. Try to make the other person perturbed with a single stare. She always won.

"Nice try, Shorty."

Inez broke their heavy gaze as she glanced about fretfully and took a step back, gingerly crossing her arms about her chest, "Aw man! Wishing to triumph against you in the Stare of Death is pointless."

Chelsea gave a pleasant chortle. "Haha! It's the one game you never could."

The Latino turned her head away defiantly with her nose in the air. "Hmmph. I **did **have you for a second."

"And **only **for a second." the victor bragged, drawing closer to her companion. Inez peered upwards at her comrade with glinting eyes and released a hesitant giggle.

"I thought you had forgotten of our little challenges…" the tiny woman momentarily bit her lip. "And of me."

Chelsea's gleeful face softened at the comment of childhood buddy as she draped her arms about the slightly more petite being. "Who could forget you?"

Inez closed her eyes and reminisced as she inhaled the familiar light scent of fresh ginger and warm cinnamon that lingered invitingly on her old friend. That aroma, reminded her of so much…

Coming out of her hug, the Hispanic blinked as she beheld the one whom she'd missed for such a very long time. Involuntarily, she sniffed. She saw Jackie gaping at the both from the corner of her vision. Inez was always very collected; she never let anyone see her cry. She was not tearing up.

Chelsea recognized this and was quick to come to Inez's rescue; she knew how much her dignity was to her. _At least the old Inez. _ For Chelsea's meant more to her than anything.

"So…" she slipped in, attempting to relieve the awkwardness, "I'm still taller than you."

Inez was fast to defend herself and mentally thanked Chelsea for saving her. "Only by a couple of inches!" she snapped. Chelsea winked.

"Still taller…Shorty."

The girl, as expected, stomped her foot angrily and protested, "Don't CALL me that!"

The olive-skinned woman drew backward and wielded her arms in front of her in surrender and chuckled. They both were aware of Peyton's extreme stunted height. It was only the fact that she was only about a hair taller than Inez was what made it so dreadfully irritating, but, she assumed, that's where all the fun of it came from.

The brunette sighed as she crossed her once more and scowled, "You haven't altered in the smallest amount, milady." (Which is how Chelsea was addressed when Inez mocked her)

The other pretended not to take offense and snarled, "Yet you have, my **dear**."

Upon witnessing Inez's shocked expression, she wished her retort didn't sound so accusing. The young Latino girl's eyes fell to the floor, submerged in guilt. Chelsea felt her chest sink into her stomach. Where was her confidence? Where was pride and strength? _What happened to my Inez?_

Once her adorable, spunky little 'chickadee' was now all grown up. Wearing contacts, adorned with makeup, and embellished with what? A nose ring?! Sensible Inez would **NEVER **get a nose ring. Ever. Not in a jillion years. The only thing she recognized about her was her vocabulary and her attire. Close fitting and forming she that she'd matured. Still she was so…different.

Beside them, Jackie could sense the growing tension between her lovable pair and decided to intervene.

"Hey Chels, look who it is!" the dark-skinned woman inserted.

A periwinkle flying contraption wearing a backwards red baseball cap appeared out of the corridor of the east wing of Control Central, carrying what seemed to be a tray of Hi-C juice boxes, and announced with a complete lack of an inside voice,

"Hey Earthlies! I'm back with refresh—"

An exotic-skinned teenager with long, black hair caught his eye. He rotated around using his propellers to see a familiar young lady with wide, sparkling eyes, beaming a sheepish smile.

"—ments."

The child tinkled her fingers at him in a bashful wave.

"Ch-Ch-Ch-" he muttered.

The girl gave a frantic, elated nod of approval.

The winged droid's jaw extended all the way to the floor with the clunking noise of tin.

"**CHELSEA**!" he hollered at the top of his nonexistent lungs, simultaneously tossing his tray of drinks into the air, and soaring towards the terrified youngster at an incredible speed. Chelsea was only able to give a gulp before they collided.

BAM!

Poor Chelsea had been knocked to the ground, her attacker piled in a crooked heap on top of her chest. Flat on the floor and struggling in pain she mumbled, "It's nice to see you—too—Digit."

With a bent beak he nasally replied, "Sorry." and leapt off of the human's breasts.

As the wounded strained to sit up and rubbing her chest, she beheld a gawking Digit as he exclaimed, "Geez!"

She furled her brows with confusion.

"You've gotten big!"

Inez and Jackie cupped their hands over their mouths as they chuckled menacingly. Chelsea was half-lidded.

Recognizing his dire mistake he supplied with enlarged eyes, "I mean that in a good way!"

Chelsea's eyes became impossibly wider as she pinched her lips together embarrassedly. The two women in the background exploded.

Waving his wings about anxiously, he fumbled, "No! I mean-not like-"

He applied his 'feathers' resigningly to his forehead, "Ohhh. What's the use. You've really screwed up this time Dige!"

Chelsea cheerfully giggled, "Oh come here you deranged cyberloony!" and she embraced the toy-sized metal bird affectionately, little red sneakers dangling from her arms.

She finally set down and kissed the cold aluminum of his beak. Blushing, he innocently consoled, "I really missed you Chelsea,"

Fixing his tiny hat on his head for him she replied with a contrite smile, "Missed you too Digit."

Digit picked up a fallen juice box and held it apologetically above his head to her, "I know you guys like these…"

It obviously hadn't occurred to the cyboid that that was years ago and that they were all much too old to be drinking Hi-C from a plastic box. But how could she say no to a cute little Digit?

Accepting the juice she snickered, "Thanks Dige."

Scraping his shoe guiltily on the floor he said, "Sorry for beaning you."

Chelsea laughed pleasantly at his funny language. "It's ok. Be glad I'm a cartoon or that really would've hurt—"

"HA!"

She was cut off by an abrupt, deep blurt of laughter. The fact that the jibe sounded mocking almost…demeaning was what caught her attention.

Her head flashed towards the direction of the golden control board and lowered her gaze until it met with the third and final black swivel chair, facing away from her towards the blipping screen.

Seated was a head of a lean boy of wispy, flaming red hair. A yellow yoyo was being shot out from the side, spinning in loop-de-loops and then treading on the steel floor before returning loyally to the waiting hand of its master.

Chelsea's heart stopped.

The man still didn't circle around to confront the covert Cybersquad member as he snapped the line of his yoyo and caught his toy for the final time and said smoothly in an unusually low, husky voice,

"So...You think cartoons can't get hurt, huh?"

**Thank you guys for being so patient! Can you believe it! The Cybersquad! Ahhhhh!**

**P.S.-Reviewing is caring! 2.22.13**


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